


The Winter Tale

by Anika_Ann



Series: The Tales of Falling [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bonus, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Cutesy, F/M, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Happy Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Reader-Insert, Seriously the fluff is very strong with this one, Snow, Steve Rogers Can Flirt, Steve Rogers is a little shit, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Winter, Winter fic, even for how my fics usually go, steve rogers is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27101461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anika_Ann/pseuds/Anika_Ann
Summary: …aka Of Snowflakes, Hard Fallings and Soft LandingsScoring a date with Steve Rogers is pretty hard. One’s gotta be patient.Fall might blend into winter before you get to go out with him, but know one thing; Steve Rogers makes things worth your while.Sequel to The Fall Tale, but works as a standalone too, I think :)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: The Tales of Falling [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978096
Comments: 16
Kudos: 64





	The Winter Tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thepracticalheartmom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thepracticalheartmom/gifts), [RFree519](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RFree519/gifts).



> Asking for a sequel to a one-shot doesn't usually work with me unless I get inspired. But I went to a wedding and got filled with all the mushy feelings, so... have some early winter fluff. 
> 
> The fluff is strong with this one and that means something coming from me alright. Enjoy?

💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙

Fall was reluctantly letting winter take over, as it usually happened towards the end of November, and you were still painfully single. Technically at least, because you yet had Steve Rogers to take you out on your first date.

How was that possible? _Glad you asked._ It was because fate was a _bitch,_ to put it eloquently. Steve had got your number with almost a scout’s-honour promise to call you soon, and then he didn’t. He _lied._ Like _a liar._

To be fair, after three days of you being mad at the embodiment of truth and justice for all, Steve Rogers _did_ called you, awfully apologetic and sounding truly regretful and either he was _that_ _good_ of a liar who even hired foreigners to be his alibi, or he really was on a market somewhere in East Europe, catching his breath in a middle of a mission.

Being angry with him got considerably harder after that, especially since two days later, you read about a major showdown in his supposed current location and saw a brief footage of him protecting innocent civilians.

Because Steve damn Rogers just had to get more perfect.

The thing was, right after that mission, there was another one, this time lasting _twelve full days_. You were incredibly pissed at the circumstances – and maybe a little bit angry with Steve too – but mostly mad at the circumstances that didn’t want you to get romantically involved any time soon.

Sure, you could have just told Steve off, bid him goodbye and find someone else, but you couldn’t.

Because Steve tried his best to stay in contact whenever time and safety measures allowed it, texting, calling and on one precious occasion, even _facetiming_. And once he relaxed a bit – which seemed to be always happening rather soon into the communication, allegedly because _you_ made him feel like a normal guy – Steve could be an entirely nice guy and you couldn’t make yourself let go.

Steve Rogers was kind, charming, _witty,_ which was a cocktail you would never say no to, but on top of that, he was panties-dropping gorgeous. So even if the chances were that eventually, after the date actually happened, you might only end up like friends due to the immense distance between your league and his, you would feel like an idiot if you didn’t try to make it work, hence _waiting_ for him to have a damn day off.

And you didn’t regret it; the date was totally worth the wait.

Yes, the weather sucked, so your clothes was perfectly damp just like your hair just from walking from your door to the cab due to the wildly swirling snowflakes, but Steve held the car door open for you, standing right there in the cold just to be a gentleman for you. He also reluctantly took your hand once inside the cab and even dropped a shy kiss on its back, his demeanour and bright blues reminding you exactly why you had been patient.

The restaurant was nice but not too fancy, which didn’t prevent Steve from opening doors for you, pulling out your chair, letting you order first and generally doing swoon-worthy things that made you feel both touched and aroused. The less posh environment didn’t make either of you feel bad for laughing and being entirely unsubtle, as the conversation varied from light to serious, laughter blending into chuckles and need to touch each other’s warmth for comfort. There was teasing, there was touching, there were unexpectedly dropped lines that made your heart flutter and there was inevitable falling deeper into the pit labelled ‘adoring Steve Rogers.’

“You really are going for the whole shebang tonight, aren’t you?” you teased him lightly when he helped you put on your coat and informed you that he made a reservation to a cinema.

The blush that crept up his neck caused you to feel even giddier than before. The wine you had both ordered might have not affected his brain as he had told you, but it had definitely coloured his cheeks rosy – and yet, now they grew even hotter.

“I mean, we don’t have to-- I don’t-“

You took his hand and squeezed, which shut him up effectively, his expression puzzled and hesitant.

“I would love to spent more time with you, Steve,” you assured him and he smiled sweetly as the cold air from outside caressed your face.

Your breath caught in your chest at the sight you were offered. Yes, New York never lasted long as a winter wonderland, but right now? Now it seemed almost magical as the freshly fallen snow proudly displayed its silvery white.

“Is the reservation paid?” you blurted out, your head snapping to Steve’s only to see disapproval on his face.

“I don’t want you to worry about that-“

“Not an answer.”

“… it’s not,” Steve replied, frowning a bit. “I wasn’t sure how long we would need for the dinner or if you’d even like to go. So… you don’t? Want to go?”

You wondered how Steve did not see the child-lie enthusiasm radiating off you with how perceptive he appeared to be so far. He missed it altogether, apparently, because he sounded disappointed.

It dawned to you that he didn’t get many chances to just go and see a movie and you instantly felt bad for rejecting something he kept his hoped up for.

You couldn’t have Steve sad, even if he was barely showing it. Not to mention that he had been treating you almost like a princess, you sure as hell wouldn’t treat him like you were the evil queen.

“Well, if you really do want to go, we can…”

He only shrugged his broad shoulders, charming a small smile for you.

“It’s up to you. I can cancel the reservation if you have something else in mind. Whatever to keep that beautiful smile on your face,” he offered and your stomach actually flipped as butterflies filled it for the hundredth time that day.

That was your thought exactly about him, but nope, of course he beat you to it and on top dropping a line like that, he was the embodiment of perfection when delivering it.

Steve looked so hot and adorable at the same time that you had to fight yourself not to jump to his arms and kiss him senseless. Pink plush lips, slightly red cheeks, gorgeous blue with a drop of green of his eyes twinkling and he wore such a _kind_ expression that it made your heart simultaneously weep and race.

He kept complimenting you so effortlessly and was so considerate the whole evening too and you weren’t sure how much more you could take before you forgone all self-control and pinned him to the nearest wall; or casually confessed your undying love for him.

“Steven, you are a _dangerous_ man. You should wear a damn warning,” you grumbled insetad, smiling so widely your mouth might actually tear.

He pursed his lips a bit, head tilted to side a fraction, looking like a confused kicked puppy.

 _Jesus, Steve, stop it or I’ll have to kiss you and I want **you**_ _to kiss **me** , so please, be considerate of my lack of self-restraint._

“What did I do?”

“You’re being annoyingly perfect-“ oh _now_ he was frowning hard, “-not like annoying _annoying,_ but—you know. Just… I have a hard time believing this is actually happening. I really like you, Steve Rogers.”

The lines of his forehead smoothened out at your admission, his expression softening as did his gaze.

He helped you put on your gloves, fingers skimming over the first bare and then clothed skin tenderly, small sad smile playing in the corner of his lips.

His eyes met yours, the twinkle in his eyes you which already learned to love dimming. “Well, I did sort of make you wait for almost a month. Not so perfect. No warning needed.”

You had to physically fight yourself so you wouldn’t snort unattractively at the remark; yeah, the said waiting did nothing to protect your heart now. Sadly, your brain-to-mouth wasn’t fully functioning, still letting out more than it was appropriate for a first date.

“Steve, even with that, you’re making it very hard not to fall for you.”

Well, _shit_. The first admission had been playful. This one sounded pretty clingy. Now he was about to run off and think you a crazy girl-

But Steve didn’t. His face lit up with gratitude and affection and then a smirk found its way to his lips.

“That’s good to know. But I happen to recall a particular moment when you have already fallen-“

A surprised exasperated laughter erupted from your throat, and you actually had to gasp to gather both air and your wits. That little sh-

You yanked your hands free from his, raising your index finger towards his face.

“You know what, forget it, I’m taking it back!” you exclaimed, taking a pointed step back as Steve chuckled. “You are not perfect, you are a _jerk_ and I think I should go home-“

“No, no _wait-“_ He reached out for you, but you took another step away, squinting at him playfully.

“I wanted to walk with you in the park, taking in the romantic sight of _clean_ New York snow, but you know what? I don’t think I wanna anymore-“

Steve made a lunge for you and grabbed your hands, raising it to his face to drop kisses on your gloves- well, _damn,_ now you regretted that he had so kindly put them on you.

“No, wait, doll, let’s walk. Unless you’re going to be cold-“

“There are some thermal microfibres in those tights or whatever, I won’t be,” you grumbled and he beamed as you unwittingly showed him that you weren’t really mad even despite his little-shit display earlier. 

You said _won’t be_ not _wouldn’t have been_ and Steve appeared to be entirely content with you yielding so easily.

Well, damn it, it was really hard to keep up with Steve's wits and humour; you loved it.

“Very well then. May I offer you a walk in the park, ma’am?” he said, holding out his elbow in invitation – the one farther from the road, of course, _gentleman –_ and you chuckled, unable to help yourself.

“It was _my_ idea, you know. Also, depends – are you going to be a jerk?”

“You wound me, miss,” he clutched at his chest theatrically, but definitely tugged you a bit closer when you slipped your arm through the loop of his own just in case you were about to change your mind when another of his jokes inevitably arrived.

“Sure I am.”

You barely made few steps without a word, when his gaze fixed on your face for long enough for you to get nervous.

“…what is it?”

He smiled, gently tugging at your joined arms, and looked you dead in the eye. “I really like you too.”

Oh. _Oh._ Okay. Where did all the oxygen go? And when did your heart started pounding so loudly in your chest?

“And for the record, I find it _impossible_ not to fall for you.”

You lowered your gaze under the intensity of his, watching your feet walking in tandem as your cheeks burned and your head spun.

 _“A friggin’ warning,”_ you muttered under your breath darkly, drawing a breathy chuckle from Steve, followed by his ‘I mean it.’

Truth was, a warning wouldn’t have helped, probably. Because Steve Rogers _was_ impossible not to fall for; but he was definitely worth it.

💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙

You weren’t sure what possessed you; must have been the wine, lowering your inhibitions.

Once again, you couldn’t contain your child-like behaviour.

One moment, you were walking in the park, dim street lights causing the snow glow brighter, fluffy and pure, as not many people were here to disturb the peace. Even the city fell almost silent in the first snow’s honour, as if grateful for the good two inches it was given.

The next moment, you freed yourself of Steve’s warm hold and hurried from the path to gather enough of the wet delight to make a snowball – and hit the pole nearby streetlamp with a surprising precision.

You turned to Steve with a grin, finding him mirroring your expression and clapping, a sound muffle by his own thin gloves.

“Very good aim. I’m impressed,” he assured you and you curtsey for him like the child you were and went to try again.

Before you could finish making a perfect ammunition, three balls hit the very same pole in quick succession, causing you to gasp and swiftly turn to Steve – who winked at you with a shit-eating grin on his face.

It was a justified display of smugness, because he stood almost ten feet behind you, the distance from which he hit the pole _actually_ impressive.

_Wow._

“Show-off,” you called out silently, drawing a shrug from him. You went to try your aim again to settle the unofficial score and whined when you missed. “Okay, you win, Rogers.”

Steve, on the other hand, continued his strike and hit three more; you noticed him bending for more snow, making a quick and very dumb decision as an idea popped up in your mind.

As he was busy showing off his skills, you got your own two bullets ready and shot-- one of them _did_ hit your target, which just happened to be Steve’s chest.

His mouth formed a theatrical ‘o’ and you couldn’t but double over in laughter despite missing with your next attempt.

“You didn’t!” he gasped, clearly genuinely _shocked_ that you in fact had hit him with a snowball. “Now you’ll get it!”

In hindsight, you should have known that it was like waving a red cloth in front of a bull; you should have realized that Steve would take it as a challenge to a snowball fight.

And it was very obvious from the start that you stood no chance, even if he was blatantly holding back as you tried and failed to hide behind a bench, behind a tree and _anything_ in your reach, your and his laughter carrying through the park as if you were damn children, both of you. You hadn’t felt so alive in _years._

Steve however stepped up his game upon you hitting a point of him so high that some of the snow clearly got behind the collar of his coat. The hiss he let out and the flames in his eyes when they met yours after your perfect hit made you run away with all you got, your heart thumping in your ribcage frantically as you knew all too well that there was no escaping a _supersoldier._

You tried and failed to speed up as you heard him closing in; perhaps it would be much easier to catch your breath to run faster if you weren’t laughing at the expression of pure shock that had been on Steve’s face when the snow tickled the sensitive skin of his neck.

A yelp escaped you as he grabbed you a tackled you to the ground, spinning you to he would take the brunt of the impact and only then he rolled you over – trapping you against the cold wet ground, making you squirm at the biting sensation on your own neck.

“No! No, _Steeeeve,”_ you whined miserably, but your cheeks were hurting from the laughter and he was a solid mass on top of you to keep you warm, so you didn’t have any reason to complain. You in fact enjoyed the feeling and the intimacy of it a little too much, considering that this was _still_ only your first date.

 _How?_ You felt like you knew him for months now; it was like having an unfairly handsome best friend you not-so-secretly had a crush on.

“You brought this upon yourself,” Steve exclaimed, grinning down at you and for the first time, it dawned to you that not only his torso way lying on you and that his hands were caging your head as he tried not to crush you with his weight, but also his gorgeous face with his tempting lips were in dangerous proximity to yours.

Dangerous to him – if he wasn’t careful, he might get kissed very soon.

You stared up at him, lost in the beautiful colour of his eyes and you were only mildly ashamed to find your gaze wandering down to his red lips.

“I—I suppose,” you whispered as your laughter died down, your breathing still heavy and only growing heavier with each second spent mesmerized by Steve’s face so close to yours.

“You suppose right,” he whispered back, voice slightly hoarser than a moment ago, his gaze roaming your face with intensity that had your heart stumbling in your chest. “This is a nice trip down the memory lane.”

“I-uhm… I remember it being the other way around.”

A smile grazed his mouth, still so damn tempting and you really found yourself barely noticing the snow melting into your clothes when— _him._

“You complaining?”

You smiled right back when he lowered his head a fraction, so _so_ painfully close you would barely have to move to finally taste his lips.

“Well, the snow is cold, but-- you know how it is… I had worse things happen to me than having a handsome fella land on me.”

Steve chuckled, the vibrations of his chest sending liquid fire through your veins, especially when his eyes seemed to brighten despite the dilatation of his pupils.

“You remember that, huh?”

“You kidding?” you mused quietly, wondering if Steve decided to torture you; if he wasn’t about to kiss you in the next thirty seconds, you might actually combust. His gaze was now more on your mouth than anywhere else and if you were honest, you might have been trembling with anticipation a bit. “That was _the_ line, Steve. I thought you were so smooth.”

An inch. _One damn inch,_ if not less of a distance remained between his lips and yours, practically touching, his radiating warmth and begging for yours to lick at their sweetness. 

And yet, Steve still spoke, words you could almost taste: “What do you think now?”

“I think that I’d really like you to kiss me.”

This time, his lips brushed yours, a soundless ‘kay’ tickling deliciously, your eyelids fluttering shut.

Your hands automatically gripped the lapels of his coat, using them as leverage when he withdrew, giving you space to breathe and process what happened. Too bad you didn’t want to, you needed more right in that moment; you tugged at the fabric, chasing after his lips and lifting your head without even opening your eyes.

You could feel his smile as he kissed you again, lingering this time, a tender dance of lips, parted a fraction to breathe in each other’s air. Your head was spinning, your tummy tingly and you truly felt like you could fly, not even ashamed if Steve was grinning at your eagerness – he seemed pretty board on with continuing to kiss you too.

So you smiled back, happy to let him take the lead as long as he stayed-

A discontent hum rambled in your throat when Steve retreated again, even if he caressed your icy-cold nose with his, dropping a kiss there too to warm it up.

You met his eyes, heavy lidded, misted with emotion and you found yourself smiling wider.

“Can’t have you catch a cold, doll,” he rasped and before you realized what was happening, before you could as much as frown in confusion, a silent yelp left your throat as Steve rolled you over again, one arm secured around your waist, keeping you on top of him.

You might not be lying on the snow anymore, but your wet back was exposed to the cold night air now, which wasn’t much any better.

But you were too busy to care, because Steve lost one glove, cupping your cheek for a better angle and he sank his lips into yours again, causing you to see and feel the stars.

💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙

If Steve walked you all the back to your apartment and you invited him in to dry off, only for him to end up spending the night, well, no one needed to know – even if you kept each other warm with nothing but tea and cuddling under the covers.

Whether things got a little more spicy than sweet in the morning… that was only for the two of you to know.

Either way, you decided that while the fall, early or late, had its serious downsides… you were willing to put up with it, because it had brought someone as amazing as Steve into your life.

Which got even more handy when you ended up catching cold from your snowy adventures.

💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍 BONUS 🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙

Blissfully wrapped in each other, not you nor Steve (which was more of a wonder) noticed two pairs of eyes focused on you and your shenanigans in the snow. Neither of you heard Bucky sigh under his breath either as he lowered the night-vision binoculars.

“Thank _God,_ I thought for a minute that the punk wasn’t going to go for it,” he muttered under his breath, handing the device to his field partner.

Sam took one glance through the binoculars before rising his hand for a high five, which Bucky instantly complied with.

“With the way they eye-fucked in the restaurant, I would have to rip him a new one if he didn’t,” Sam stated.

“You’d have to get in the line behind me,” Bucky retorted, but grinned, truly happy for his friend.

“More like get ready for _being_ _ripped_ a new one,” a voice behind them opposed, causing both soldiers to nearly jump out their skin in surprise – and literally jump to their feet in fright, ready to face their enemy.

Their enemy seemed harmless to an untrained eye: the one and only Black Widow, watching them with her arms crossed on her chest and a raised eyebrow.

“We knew you were there,” Sam blurted out instinctively, earning an eyeroll from the redhead.

“Sure you did,” she scoffed and nodded in the direction of the pair still rolling over in snow in the distance. “Now that you know that Rogers still got some game, you going to stop stalking him or do I have to keep an eye on you?”

“Please. You were just curious as we were, otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” Bucky smirked and Natasha shrugged with one shoulder dismissively.

“Maybe. Maybe I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t crash their date to ‘help’,” she said, taking care to make air quotes with the last word. “Now let’s get out of here. If you really want to help, you can start looking up some chicken soup recipes to cure her inevitable sniffles.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky replied dutifully with only an edge of irony, while trying hard to remember the recipe for the soup Mrs. Rogers or his ma used to cook back in the day when the always sickly Steve Rogers refused to take normal (disgusting) medicine.

The thought of Steve not being on the receiving end of that treatment and instead being the caretaker had his lips curl up in a smile.

💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :-*


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